All My Lovin'
by Lady Kali' Barton
Summary: For Amy W...with love. If you haven't heard her version of the aptly named title, DO IT. First fic in a WHILE but wrote it in one night. Please be gentle, but honest :   Thanks.


~For Amy W., with love. _Thank you_ seems so pale a statement.

GW: Not mine.

_All My Lovin'_: Not mine either.

Enjoy!

The faint sound of keys jingling and the lock of the front door blended in with the sounds of an acoustic guitar in the background. Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian let herself into the large apartment currently owned by the influentialowner of Winner Enterprises and dear friend, Quatre Winner. She was greeted, surprisingly not by him, but Trowa Barton, another of the ex-pilot's friend and comrade.

"Didn't know the circus was in town this week," She said with a warm smile.

"Isn't, but you know the routine," came the baritone response. He offered her a rare small smile and set the instrument down. "Quatre's not here, but I figured you only came to raid the recently sent goodies from his sister."

Relena laughed as she stepped in and closed the door. "You know I cannot resist Ira's homemade baking. She needs to set up her own store."

"Oh and become the AC 197 'Mrs. Field's'? Highly unlikely." Trowa replied with a chuckle. "She prefers to heal people, not tempt them to an early grave with sweets."

Relena laughed as she made a beeline to the kitchen. "Hey every once in a while," the sentence broke off with a munch, "…. its good…" another munch, " to have alil treat."

She flopped on the sofa with her pilfered cookies. She offered one to the chuckling young man beside her, but he shook his head.

"I already had my quota. You know what I wear when I perform."

"Yeah, I know all too well. And here I thought it was a family circus!" Relena teased, laughing while chewing. "Guess maybe Catherine is concerned her little brother doesn't have enough dates?"

"Please, do not go there. Half of the reason why I took this assignment in the first place is because she has decided to start playing match maker." Trowa leaned back in the plush leather loveseat with a slight sigh.

Relena shook with laughter at the thought of the girls Catherine would try to push on her brother. Girls who would probably talk entirely too much for the normally reserved ex-pilot. And Trowa, being the polite person that he was, would have to endure date after date with chatterboxes.

When he gave her a look, his emerald green eyes becoming darker with exasperation, she belly laughed and reached over to pat his knee.

"So glad you can laugh at this. I was hoping maybe you could talk some sense in her, seeing as you are the reigning champ of peace negotiations."

"Peace negotiations are one thing. Trowa. Telling your sister to back off with the Cupid stuff is another." Relena blew her long honey wheat bangs off her forehead. "And I can't dodge those knives like you can."

Trowa laughed harder at the thought, then began to tune his Spanish guitar. It was brilliantly painted copper red with orange/gold flecks dusted in the paint. Relena watched him deftly pluck a string, then twist it tighter if the twang sounded off.

"Hey, what was the tune you were playing before I walked in? You writing a song?"

"No. I just play for recreation. Want me to play it again?"

Relena settled back on the cough with her head resting on the large pillows. "Yeah…been a long day and could use something soothing, you know?"

Trowa looked at her intensely, watching the way her hair moved in the soft late summer afternoon's breeze from the opened window. She had cut it again, this time the back was ultra short with long sides and bangs. Her white linen skirt suit clung to her from the humid day, and the exhausting efforts of maintaining a peacefully universe.

He asked a question as he lightly strummed," How are the talks going, Relena? The news says-"

"The media doesn't know, pardon my French, shit about what's going on!" Relena shot up, her face contorted in remembrance of the frustrations of the day. "These old men all want it their way! They want to increase the already out of control debt, and seize assets that they have no right to! People are losing their jobs right when the economy was recovering from the Eve War!" Relena shook her head. "That is what is the most important. That people, regular ordinary people, have the job security they need to support their families in this new era of peace. If they don't have that, it leads to civil unrest and that is how terrorist groups find their supporters."

Trowa stopped strumming for a moment. "We know. The Preventers have had more cases of suspected terrorist uprisings in the past few months. Heero has been-" Trowa stopped mid-sentence at the look that Relena issued him.

He knew he had hit a sore spot by even mentioning that name. All of the emotion dropped from Relena's face. Trowa knew she wanted to ask him where Heero was now but pride stopped the words. Silence halted their conversation for a moment.

"Can you," she began with a shaky voice then cleared her throat and tried again. "Can you play that song again?" Relena tentatively asked without looking at Trowa.

"Sure."

Trowa began to play the song, slow at first. The chords made a jazzy sound, the beat undeniably smooth. Suddenly, Relena began to sing, her voice coming out a little raspy at first, but deep with soul.

"_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,_

_Tomorrow I'll miss you;_

_Remember I'll always be true._

_And then while I'm away,_

_I'll write home ev'ry day,_

_And I'll send all my lovin' to you_…"

Relena closed her eyes, afraid that tears might slide out and let the sultry groove wash over her instead. Trowa, picking on her cues, kept playing knowing there was more.

"_I'll pretend that I'm kissin'_

_the lips I am missin'_

_And hope that my dreams will come true._

_And then while I'm away,_

_I'll write home ev'ry day,_

_And I'll send all my lovin' to you…"_

The guitar strummed a little harder as the beat picked up. Relena slowly swayed as she harmonized with the chords.

"_Mmmm ooh my lovin' _

_I'll send to you…_

_Ooh my lovin;_

_I'll be true…_"

Trowa, still following her cues, broke down the beat. The change in the guitar rhythm was suited to the riffs she produced with her voice. Relena's impassionate voice became thicker and deeper as she belted out the bridge.

"_All my lovin' I will send to you._

_All my lovin' darling I'll be True._

_All my lovin' all my lovin' ooh_

_All my lovin' I will send to you…"_

Relena got up, still singing, as she reached the crescendo. Her voice growing louder as the words got stronger.

"_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,_

'_Cause tomorrow I'll miss you;_

_Remember I'll always be true._

_And then while I'm away,_

_I'll write home ev'ry day,_

_And I'll send all my lovin' to you_…"

The beat picked up as Relena's pitch changed to sobbing pleads. Trowa could feel the power behind the words, her voice carrying the hidden emotions of a still heart broking girl, now a young woman still carrying the burden.

"_All my lovin' I will send to you._

_All my lovin' darling I'll be True…."_

Relena's pitch got stronger as she improvised. Trowa slowed the chords as he sensed Relena reaching the end of the song.

"_All my lovin' all my lovin' ooh_

_All my lovin' I will send to you…"_

Silence once again enveloped the apartment as the last note faded. Relena looked out the window at the now dark skies. Their inky blue black brought tears to her eyes as she thought of the man who inspired those last few minutes.

Trowa placed the guitar down face up on the oak coffee table and sat back. Silence was always his best friend, and after the impromptu performance, he couldn't get the sultry sound of Relen'a voice out of his head. He never knew she could sing like that. Most of his jam sessions consisted of other instruments, but never vocals.

Finally Relena spoke, " Heard this song when I was still in high school back while browsing through some old old music audio devices called "cds". The singer did a cover from a very famous band that originally sang it in the 20th century. She died at a young age unfortunately. Her voice was so powerful, all I could think of was that the tune you were playing sounded a lot like it."

Trowa looked straight at her. "That's because it was. It had been circling the Internet a while after a recent artist committed suicide who had been influenced by her music. They were the same age at death."

Relena shook her head and sighed. "I just, miss him. After the Eve War we lost touch. I know he's still around watching over me like some dark angel but-"

"It's not enough." Trowa's normally expressionless eyes held sadness. "There was a time when I told him to take care. I had meant only his body at the time. But maybe I should have said take care of those who matter. I know if I lost Cathy again I would never forgive myself for not expressing how much she means to me. Even though it is very difficult at times."

The confession from Trowa startled Relena. She turned a looked at the young man, who now had his back to her. He'd grown much in the last year, his shape stronger and leaner from missions and acrobatic performances around the clock. His bang was neatly hanging from on side of his face, allowing one deep emerald eye to gaze at the world. And what the eye saw was profound truths that he imparted when he saw fit.

Relena wiped her eyes, hoping her mascara hadn't run. She walked back over to the sofa, but stopped and gave Trowa a kiss on the cheek. Not waiting to see his response she picked up her keys and headed for the door.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to Cathy. She can't throw knifes through the vid-com anyway." Relena said over her shoulder. "Thanks for the jam session."

Trowa had picked up a rag and was waxing his guitar. He had a slight smile on his face, but Relena knew he was beaming on the inside.

"Goodnight, Relena. Take care."

Relena nodded and slipped through the door. As soon as the door shut, a figure emerged from a shadow in the hallway.

"I know you heard everything."

There was no response.

"Heero, it's not my place to give advice. However, I will suggest that with all things there is timing." Trowa continued to polish his guitar. "And your timing is about to walk out, just like she did."

The sound of footsteps and the front door closing again was the response.

Trowa began to whistle the previous tune as he polished. Maybe Cathy was on to something with this Cupid thing, he mused. Shaking his head, he got up and placed the guitar in its case, then headed to the music room.

"Cupid is one opponent I think even HeavyArms couldn't defeat."

~*FIN*~


End file.
